


Hold My Hand

by Mothmeme



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Assassination Attempt(s), Autistic Julian Bashir, Communication Issues, Disabled Character, Domestic Fluff, F/F, I'm trying my darnedest, M/M, Original Character(s), Permanent Haitus, Post-Canon Cardassia, Slow Burn, Trans Julian Bashir, i update chapters every so often so please reread the whole thing if you havent done so in a while, in reference to garak and julians parents, may rewrite someday bc post canon fic is a legal requirement, shitty parenting, this whole thing is a wip winks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-13
Updated: 2019-01-23
Packaged: 2019-07-11 18:08:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15977663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mothmeme/pseuds/Mothmeme
Summary: Julian volunteers his time as a doctor to the reconstruction efforts on Cardassia, and when Garak stops replying to his letters, he fails to consider why. When he reunites with his friend, he ends up becoming involved in the mess that Garak wanted him to avoid. Things only end up further complicated from there.





	1. Ignored Letters

**Author's Note:**

> Uhhh, keep in mind that I haven't had the opportunity to finish ds9 myself and that I'm only halfway through A Stitch in TIme. I started writing this before I had started reading that book, too. Some details like entire characters might end up ignored/replaced. Also, I am neither a politician nor am I a doctor (yet) so I have no idea what it is I'm talking about.
> 
> I'll try to update weekly. I already have the next chapter written, but I can't guarantee all chapters will come out on schedule. Apologies for any formatting issues. If anybody wants to beta,, uh please,, also, give me criticism. I slurp that stuff up.

Julian wiped his head, nearly collapsing at the weight of the sun still on his back. Humans were not well equipped for such harsh temperature like this, and it really showed. He was visibly run ragged. It was just turning spring season on Cardassia Prime. They hadn't reached summer yet, and this was supposed to be mild weather. He was starting to see why the coolness of Deep Space Nine might have been less than ideal for any visiting Cardassians if this was pleasantly warm weather.  
  
This past couple of months he had been doing volunteer work at this hospital. It had taken about a year, but he had been able to convince Starfleet to give him permission to go despite his augment status. After all, it really would have been ironic if the one thing he wasn't allowed to do as an augment was take his medical training where it was needed.    
  
And _God_ was it needed here.  
  
Every other day it seemed like they got dozens of people who had lost an arm or a leg to a hidden landmine while they were scouring for any possible supplies in the debris. Many of these people were malnourished children. There was also a large bout of illness brought on by the malnourishment and lack of suitable hygiene that was claiming lives every day.  
  
Sometimes it felt like there were more lives being lost than being saved. It started to feel hopeless at times.  
  
Julian had to remind himself that there was only so much he and the other doctors could do. They were simply underfunded and understaffed.  
  
He was thinking about all of this as he wiped his sweating hands on a damp cloth and then applied a modest amount of disinfectant soap to them. They didn't have much in the way of supplies, and this included the necessity of sterilization. Though luckily they still had running water, a luxury that not many other facilities had.  
  
“Salmakt,” a coworker greeted him in formal Kardasi, though she was waving a hand at him in typical informal human greeting. Something she had learned from a previous volunteer here.  
  
That was another thing. Not everyone here had a translator, and so they wouldn't get the translation of his standard, even if he understood them just fine. Julian had to shut off his translator and start learning some of the language to properly communicate with his coworkers and patients. Fortunately, those of his coworkers who knew standard had taken the liberty of teaching him Kardasi.  
  
This was one of those coworkers, her name was Parvesh. Slightly younger than him, she had a penchant for swapping stories and generally gossiping. She was easy enough to get along with as long as she wasn't in your business.  
  
“Hello,” He greeted back, trying not to grimace at his own mispronunciation. His coworkers were always saying his accent was cute and soft.  
  
His voice? Cute and soft? Funny assertion.  
  
“How are you, Parvesh? The patients?” He continued.  
  
Parvesh smiled ruefully. “We lost another patient last night.”  
  
Julian frowned at that.  
  
She awkwardly patted his arm in comfort, pointing over to a room on the far left. “You have a patient waiting for you there. He was just taken in….”  
  
He'd best prepare for a rather gruesome scene.  
  
Nodding, he set up for work and headed over to the patient.  
  
And gawked at the sight. It was a very recognizable man. Tall and lanky with a birthmark on his face. A bit of a new political icon. Honestly Julian had only ever seen pictures of him, as this man wasn't one of those who had ever done broadcasts or video like some of the other political icons of Cardassia.  
  
His name was Lars Ghemor. Julian always assumed he was related to Tekeny Ghemor somehow.  
  
His left arm was completely gone. He was laying on a bed in a bloody heap, next to the bed was the equally bloody stretcher they had brought him in.  
  
This was not the kind of person who would be digging through old stores for food. This man should be well off enough given his position in society. So what had happened?    
  
He really shouldn't be thinking about this, he needed to tend to the man.  
  
There was no way to put him to sleep though it appeared that he had either passed out from the pain or had died from blood loss. Quickly searching for a pulse and feeling the light thrumming indicated that the man was indeed still alive.  
  
That covered that. Julian went to grab some clothes along with bandages. Thankfully they had yet to run out of either because of the excess they had to begin with.  
  
He wet the cloths.  
  
He tried to clean the wound as much as he could, going for all of the dirt. He then bandaged it all up tightly, applying pressure to the wound. That was, unfortunately, all he could for now until the next shipment of supplies came in.  
  
And he was going to be doing this same thing all day.  
  
\---  
  
When his coworkers came to sit by him at lunch, he had been half tempted to get up and leave. That was because one of his coworkers, an old nurse called Daran, had brought a beaten up radio transmitter and tuned onto _that_ broadcast. The one that they had been listening in on for the past few months, and something they grew to tease Doctor Julian Bashir about. It was a tease at how intently he would listen to what was being said by the broadcaster,  Ausaac Garak, as the public knew him as. They told him that he would seem to forget the world around him whenever the broadcaster was in earshot, looking off into the distance as though he were ‘looking into the eyes of a loved one’, and he held onto every word said like it was gospel. That he was absolutely smitten. With someone who was an absolute stranger.  
  
Of course, his coworkers had no idea that Julian personally knew the man. Known him for many years as a dear and close friend. Had lunch with him. Discussed literature, amongst other things... He was even the man's doctor. Not that Julian hadn’t been everyone’s doctor on DS9. He was cmo.  
  
Maybe they would tease less if he said something about it? Not that he was in love with him to begin with. Sure, the man was very handsome and attractive, but that didn't necessarily mean anything at all. No, he decided, they would probably poke and prod at him more. Even worse, they might want details. The idea of saying anything about it in earshot of Pervash made him cringe. She would have all of Cardassia believing that he was Garak’s human lover within a few days if she ever knew the connection they had. She was already betting that Julian sent fan letters.  
  
Which she was right about. He did send letters. Not fan letters. Julian hadn’t gotten a response to a single one of those letters and it was aggravating beyond belief. He kept sending them in the hopes that Garak might respond. Those hopes were starting to die.  
  
Instead of saying anything about the radio, Julian strategically stuck his food in his mouth before anyone else said anything. If he ate quick enough and cleaned up quick enough, maybe he could avoid his coworkers saying something entirely.  
  
Except Cardassians liked conversations with their meals, so that didn't stop the teasing.  
  
Lucky for him, it stopped fairly quickly when Pervash brought up the subject of that politician from that morning. Apparently, other politicians had been killed these past few weeks. There were several different causes of death including poisonings, stabbings, and what now seemed to be a staged suicide.  
  
“And of course, there is that one bomb that went off in the city. That one nearly could have killed our broadcaster Garak.” Pervash stated.  
  
Julian couldn't continue eating after hearing that. His throat was tight and suddenly the already hot, thick air had become suffocating. It was too much.  
  
“Oh..” He croaked, avoiding the worried gaze of Chiyal, a younger nurse and the only other male at the table. “Well, I've got to get going...I promised my cousin I would call her during lunch break.”  
  
He got up and as he left he heard the older Daran chastising the younger Pervash.  
  
“Why would you mention something like that at the lunch table! You know how much he adores that man! You scared him!”  
  
“Well, I didn't think he really liked him that much...”  
  
“Poor man is probably going to be worried sick. Apologize to him.”  
  
He sped to his office. It was a modest room with a desk, a bin for various paperwork, and a padd. The basics. More common for an old-school mail office back on earth than a proper hospital. It did its job.  
  
He picked up the padd left on his desk and called his cousin. He really had promised to call her during lunch, he just thought it would be a far shorter call. It was only eight minutes into the lunch break.  
  
It was only recently that Julian had gotten the chance to reconnect with his cousin, seeing as she had thought him dead for the past twenty years. When his parents had taken him to Aedigon Prime, they had told all extended family that their son had fallen ill and died, and then they moved to another country and changed the family name. Julian couldn’t even remember what his birth name actually was, which only made the prospects of ever finding his extended family bleeker. All he had to go on was that his first name was once ‘Jules’ and that those relatives were on his mother's side.  
  
It was really good fortune that his cousin had her name changed to her childhood nickname, the name that Julian could barely remember her by. It took a lot of digging around but when he finally contacted her she was both shocked, thrilled, and furious that her aunt and uncle would lie about their son bring dead after doing something completely illegal to him. Going off the radar and cut contact with everyone in the family. And she was not alone in that anger.  
  
That was a whole other story, however.  
  
When she picked up the call, she appeared on the screen in a rather empty looking room. She was precariously balancing her pregnant body on a ladder with a paintbrush in hand. The padd seemed to be propped up on some kind of bookshelf, seeing as a page was hanging over it.  
  
“Hey Jules!” she yelled. There was a sudden noise as her image rotated and the padd fell to black.  
  
“Hey..?”  
  
There was some shuffling. And then there was her image again. She was holding the padd now. And the paintbrush was on the floor.  
  
“Sorry, the shelf fell over. What's up, cuz?” She asked, looking rather winded.  
  
Julian opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He could only stare.  
  
His cousin stared back before realizing the problem, there was a moment of horror in her eyes before resignation. “Part of my new carpet is blue now, isn't it?”  
  
He nodded.  
  
She sighed. “Is it okay if I hang up for a minute to clean this up?”  
  
“Sure thing, Lily.”  
  
She hung up and Julian was left alone with his thoughts for a few minutes, which was the exact opposite of what he wanted right then. All he could really do was sort through paperwork and tidy up his desk while he was waiting for her to finish cleaning up. He was even working on sorting some of the paperwork by a particular order again when he got a call back from her.  
  
This time she was in a different shirt- this one was not paint stained and appeared to be laying down on her stomach with her padd propped up in front of her. It didn't look too comfortable to him.  
  
“Hey, Lily. How are you doing? It looks like you’ve just moved in.”  
  
She yawned and shifted in her space, knocking the padd over. She set the padd back in its place. Julian was just now noticing the bags under her eyes and how wore down she looked. She must be exhausted, he realized.  
  
“Yeah, we just got here a few nights ago. And it's been nonstop-” She paused. “Hey, are you doing okay?”  
  
“You've been working nonstop, huh? That certainly explains how utterly tired you look.”  
  
“Yes, it's been very hard work.” She said, exasperated. “Now answer my question, Jules.”  
  
“I'm fine.” Julian lied.  
  
She stared at him in immense disbelief. “No, you're not. You look like shit.”  
  
Okay, Julian hadn't had the opportunity to shower yet today in this burning weather, but that comment was really uncalled for. This was what he usually looked like during a lunch call.  
  
“And not because of how gross you look, Julian. You just look like you're upset.“ She added.  
  
“I'm doing just fine, really…”  
  
She shot him another disbelieving look. “What happened?”  
  
“It's just that…” His throat tightened again as he said this. “I'm worried about a friend of mine.”  
  
“Oh. It wouldn't happen to be somebody I know would it?”  
  
She didn't know most of his friends. She had only ever met the O’briens, who she had grown completely attached to. She especially loved Molly, who was determined to call every family friend an aunt or uncle.  
  
“No….”  
  
He hesitantly started spilling his guts about Garak, a friend he had mentioned to her only in passing. The whole situation. The lunches they had, the recent letters, and what made him so worried about him right now.  
  
“It sounds like you really should yell at him.”  
  
“That sounds like a bad idea.”  
  
Lily shrugged her shoulders. “Well it's something you want to do, isn't it? You're frustrated at him. Get it all out, and kiss and make up with him afterwards.”  
  
“Lily!!!”  
  
“That is exactly what you wanted to do, right? Aren't you gay?”  
  
“Bi.” He reminded her. “And I'm not the woman with a wife and kids.”  
  
“Don't bring my gay little family into this!!!”  
  
They have a laugh at that. Eventually said gay little family comes into the picture to say hi. Lily’s wife, Judy, politely waves at him, commenting that he could really use a shower. Lily’s nine-year-old twins, however, excitedly greet him, talking nonstop at their uncle Julian about everyday happenings in their lives. They are sad when they are forced to say goodbye.    
  
The rest of his work day was spent thinking about what he would say to Garak.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These chapters are all subject to editing and stuff.


	2. The Reminiscence

There is a Terran saying, ‘home is where the heart is.’ For Garak, this always ringed true. His home was always on Cardasssia. Where he could breathe comfortably in the pleasantly warm night. A sharp contrast to Garak’s memory of the frigidly cold Deep Space Nine. His heart really was in Cardassia for years, even for all the pain Cardassia caused him in exiling him to DS9. He had been living the lowly life of a tailor on what had become a Bajoran space station. He was forced to deal with the ostracization as the only Cardassian living there, alone in his exile. With only his implant to help him through the situation and to cope, Garak was well on his way in an uncontrollable downwards spiral towards an early death. His heart suffered the hurt of being cut off from his home.  
  
That was until he had met his dear Doctor Julian Bashir… Suddenly, the thought of making this freezing space arachnid his home didn’t seem so bad with this new and interesting friend he had made.   
  
Garak knew there had been a new CMO assigned to Deep Space Nine. From the moment he first laid eyes on the Terran, Garak knew that he was going to be very interesting. When he met him, his first impression was that he was very anxious to make friends, and also rather attractive. When they started having lunches together and discussing literature, it really seemed like nothing more than a convenient acquaintanceship. Bashir annoyed most everyone else who he came into contact to, and Garak couldn't get anyone else to talk to him at all.   
  
Then things changed.   

When his implant failed, and Bashir had done everything to tend to him, going as far as to meet with the head of the Obsidian Order, and ultimately saving Garak’s life, he knew it was more than an acquaintanceship. When Bashir had decided out of his own virtue to help Garak even as he yelled at him and intended the doctor harm; held his hand at his bedside, Garak realized he was in love.  
  
It had sent chills down his spine because not only did he love the doctor, but he trusted him. Garak trusted Bashir with not only his life but his secrets. Bashir had knowledge about him that political rivals would literally kill to have.  
  
At first, he had tried keeping it secret, hoping that if he didn't indulge any of his own little fantasies and urges that those warm feelings might go away as quickly as they had shown up. After all, love would only serve as a weakness, and he couldn't bear to think of who could hurt Bashir if anyone knew about his fondness for him. What danger that might put him in. What danger that he had put a loved one in, he couldn’t afford to make the same mistake this time. Garak still didn’t know what had happened to Palandine.  
  
So the object of his affections couldn't know.  
  
But over the years he started to slip. A smile here, and a half embrace there... He had even let Bashir listen in as he talked to Enabran Tain, his _father_ , for the last time as the old man died in that Dominion internment camp.  
  
That was why it really was for the best that he had stopped contact with Bashir. That he stopped returning his calls and letters. Julian had wanted to see him again for ages and had told him as such in his most recent letter sent in this past month.  
  
_‘Dear plain and simple Garak,_ __  
__  
_Hello, Garak. Sorry to take so long in formulating a reply to your last letter. Things have been a little bit hectic these past few weeks with the flu that broke out. It left me a bit busy, to say the least. I barely had time to sit down and read the letter. You should warn me next time you plan to write me a novel!_ __  
__  
_I have some good news otherwise. Ezri and Selina (she’s Kahn’s latest host) are engaged. Ezri woke me up last night to tell me that. I didn't even know they were dating, to begin with, and I know that’s likely because of the repercussions they will face, but I'm happy for them._ __  
_  
__Also, Starfleet finally signed off on my application for the volunteer work program- I’m going to be on Cardassia within a few months. Maybe I will see you there! We could meet up and have lunch again like old times if you’d have me. I would really enjoy sitting down with you again. We could talk more about your letter, too. I really miss our conversations. And I miss you._

 _Your friend, Julian Bashir’_  
  
He couldn't allow Bashir to visit him. The political environment was already tense as it was. Three have been killed over political disputes already, and dozens of civilians along with them. There was also a recent attempt on his own life. Bashir would only put himself in danger being here. And Garak knew he couldn't protect him, he feared that he would fail to.  
  
For so long, all Garak had to look forward to was having lunch with Bashir, and he couldn't bear the thought of losing him now.  
  
Garak was sitting down in the dark of Tolan’s old gardening shed. A newly built house was standing where Tain’s house once stood, with the memorial lovingly named the “tailor’s grounds” by the locals right beside it. This was Garak’s house, though Garak couldn't stand the thought of living in there alone. Not yet.  
  
He sat in a Terran styled sleeping bag with a cup of rokassa juice, getting some of his work done, when he had gotten a notification on his padd. It was from Bashir. Garak swallowed back a sigh as he checked. It was video. His friend had been sending in messages and letters even long after Garak had stopped answering them, hopeful that Garak would eventually answer. That optimism was something Garak loved about him,  unfounded as it often was.  
  
He tentatively pressed the play button, frowning at the disheveled sight of the doctor. His hair was a curly mess atop his head, and his face was covered in a thin layer of sweat. There were bags under his eyes, which he knew to indicate tiredness in humans.  
  
“Hello, Garak! I know you're probably busy and all, and you haven't answered any of my other messages yet, but I wanted to send this anyway.”  
  
His normally easy smile looked forced.  
  
“Garak.” He sighed. “I'm worried about you. I heard about what happened... You could have died.”  
  
Garak most certainly couldn’t reply to this. Couldn't risk the possibility of someone watching and making the correct assumptions about his feelings for Bashir. That made his heartache.  
  
“You really could have died.” Bashir continued. “And I really need you to know-”  
  
Garak shut the video off, not able to bring himself to listen to the rest of it. He set his padd down, deciding he was done for tonight. He would finish in the morning. Deleting both the message and his message history, he shut the padd off, and finally settled down. His sleep was a restless one, filled with the recurring dream of his where he lay down in a ditch with the dead of his life. 

Bashir was among them.  
  
\--  
  
The day, Garak thought, was nice and warm. Mild and pleasant..This was the ideal time to start planting Edosian orchids, perhaps he could get his hands on seeds. Some orchids by the memorial might not be a bad idea. Maybe he could even start a garden. He smiled at the thought and took in his surroundings. It was still a wreckage, but it was slowly being stitched up and repaired. With the sky a nice color again, the smoke and dust has started to slowly disperse. Garak could breathe outside again, and could almost pretend that his home wasn't torn up at all and that he had nothing to worry about. Of course, he need not look far to be reminded of the true damage.  
  
It was always around the corner, and he couldn’t look away from it forever.  
  
“You look mighty distracted, Garak.” His lunch companion remarked.  
  
This was an... An acquaintance of his, and a tentative ally.  
  
The two of them were at a restaurant that had miraculously opened itself up again after all of this time. Once a very high-class establishment, the ownership had switched hands, and the cooking staff made do with whatever food they could get their hands on. They were more like a kitchen now. As they provided members of the community with safe and clean meals.

  
The place also happened to have a spectacular view. Enough to distract even Garak for a moment.  
  
And to be fair, the man was rambling. Surely he could forgive him for getting a little bit bored with it. He had been jumping from topic to topic since they got here, not once getting to what they came here to talk about. Right now the topic was stuck on childhood pets for some unknown reason. Garak refrained from mentioning the only pet he ever had, Mila, a regnar lizard.  
  
The rambling went on.  
  
Garak wanted to stick his head in a pool of water for a good few minutes...At least Bashir’s own rambling wouldn't get so off topic, and it didn't tend to stay off topic either.  
  
“Me, distracted? You must be imagining things.” Garak responded, masking his irritation with faked amusement.  
  
The man then went on with his small talk, ironically going on about how nice this season was. It was like this until their dishes were completely cleared by the quiet young woman who had served them. The other man paused in his rambling.  
  
“Garak,” he leaned over the table and got way too close. “There is something you need to know.”  
  
Instantly these words brought Garak back to the message he received from Bashir last night. It seemed he couldn't shake the thought of him away today. It was becoming almost distressing, how often the man would come to mind nowadays.  
  
“You will find that I am fully attentive,” Garak said.  
  
That was when Garak started hearing a most peculiar clicking noise that instantly set him on edge. It was like the flick of a switch.  
  
“There is a-”  
  
Before the man could say anything more, Garak felt a blinding pain. It happened too fast for him to realize what was going on. He lost consciousness.

\--  
  
The first time Garak woke up, he didn't have a clue where he was. Garak’s eyes scanned his surroundings in a half-awake haze, noticing that he was in an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar room. The lights were dim, and he could spot other beds at the edge of his vision. He also seemed to be alone.  
  
That was when he remembered what happened at the restaurant. It must have been another explosion, another attempt at his life. He must be at a hospital then. What had happened to his colleague? Garak drifted off into sleep again before he could consider this further.  
  
The second time he woke up, he tried to get up and failed, finding that his body felt numb and muscles heavy.  
  
“I recommend that you stay still.” A familiar voice said in a very distinctly accented Kardasi.  
  
There was a quality to the voice, something in how smooth it sounded, that said that this wasn't something being translated. It wasn't a characterless translation mounted on top of the original audio.  
  
A human face came into his view not a moment later, leaning over him in a way that made him uncomfortable. It was reminiscent of a time he was in this same position on Deep Space Nine, the doctor standing watch over him that night.  
  
“You nearly died, and you’ll need all the rest you can get, my friend.” He said, eyeing Garak with thinly veiled weariness. “This is the second time this has happened.”  
  
“Indeed, it is.” They made eye contact for an uncomfortable second. Garak had thought for years that Bashir had brown eyes, but later noticed they could look green at times, and he learned that they were actually hazel. Hazel eyes weren’t a trait commonly found in Cardassians. Garak thought they were very beautiful. He used to dream about those eyes. He still did, when the weight of what was going on around him set in, and he was having a moment of weakness.  
  
“Garak.”  
  
“My dear doctor. “ He couldn't help but tiredly smile despite the circumstances. The doctor had that kind of effect on him it seemed.  
  
Everything was becoming blurry again, and he could barely make out Bashir’s face besides those focused hazel eyes. Garak could feel sleep slowly approaching. As his eyelids grew heavy and his sight faded to black, he felt the pressure of chapped lips scrape the chufa on his forehead, and heard an incoherent whisper as warm fingers laced around his own.  
  
Those eyes definitely tortured his dreams this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting early because I don't have patience at all. Apologies for any formatting issues.


	3. Likely A Restless Idiot

"Sweet dreams, Garak."  
  
Julian really was cross with the man. Sending him an impossibly large letter, then not returning any more letters (maybe he had been writing another novel), and then nearly dying twice. Julian couldn't yell at a man on a hospital bed; given how unprofessional that was, but he really wanted to. Maybe it was the intense relief at seeing him alive that made him disregard that anger. He would be as relieved if this were any other friend. Though Julian couldn't imagine kissing Miles like that, or holding his hand like he was doing for Garak right now.  
  
He sighed. It was getting very late, and he needed to go home. Get some sleep. Garak was all stitched up, and asleep himself. He would be fine. There would be people here to look after him during the night shift.  
  
A part of Julian felt that if he left now, he would never see Garak again. That something would happen to him, and he would die, or maybe he would continue his silence.   
  
Julian knew it wasn’t logical to think that Garak could get up and walk away from here, he just had to amputate a portion of his leg and his foot. Even if he still had those, he would hardly be in a state to leave after a brush with death like that. He would and up staying here for at least a few days. Julian will come into work tomorrow and he'll be here. Garak wouldn't disappear into the shadows.  
  
“So, he’s your friend?”  
  
Julian jumped at the voice of his coworker, who was standing right behind him. He hadn't noticed her enter the room. She hadn't been watching from behind the closed door this whole time, had she?  
  
Pervash chuckled at the reaction.  
  
“And he called you dear.”  
  
“He probably has no idea that has any kind of romantic connotations in English.” Julian scoffed.  
  
“So you two know each other? Are you involved?” she questioned relentlessly, eye's shining like those of a cat’s who had caught sight of dangling string.  
  
Julian had to hold back a groan.  
  
“Yes, I know him. No, we're not at all involved.”  
  
“But you want to be?” She prodded.  
  
“Wha- No! No.” He shook his head fervently. “No, we're just close friends.”  
  
“You're sitting at his bedside. And,” She added. “Wasn't that kiss typical romantic behavior coming from a human?”  
  
“That doesn't mean anything, I'm his doctor… I'm also his friend.” Suddenly he felt self-conscious about still holding Garak’s hand.  
  
She raised an eye ridge. “To borrow a Terran phrase, ‘methink dost protest too much.’”  
  
Pervash sighed when Julian didn't say anything in reply to her teasing, his gaze fixed on his friend. She patted his arm, no less awkwardly than when she did this the other day. Perhaps it was because patting the arm was hardly a common way to comfort someone in neither human nor Cardassian cultures.  
  
“I wanted to apologize to you, Bashir. I knew you were fond of him but didn't consider how my… less than sensitive words might upset you. I thought you had already heard.”  
  
Julian tentatively let go of Garak’s hand. The two of them stood in near silence for a moment, the only audible sound was that of a wheelchair being pushed across the hall outside the room. Eventually, he shook his head.  
  
“It's fine, really. You didn't know.”  
  
Pervash nodded.  
  
“Well,” Pervash motioned to the door. “We better be getting home then. We've been off work for a few minutes already.”  
  
That was true. He and Pervash left quietly, the door clicking into place behind them. On their way out of the hospital, they greeted the night shift.  
  
The two of them lived on the same street, so they often headed home together. That was likely why Julian ended up talking to her more than his other coworkers. When they got to the place Julian was staying at, they said their goodbyes, and Julian headed in.  
  
It was less of a house, and more of a converted building of original purpose Julian still didn't actually know. With all the built-in shelves, Julian had assumed it was some kind of library once, but there were none of the books that one might expect to find at a library. It was possible that they were taken, though in this current state of affairs he couldn’t imagine them selling well or selling at all. Perhaps they were moved to make room for the living complex it now was.  
  
This was where the volunteers were staying. For the most part, there were nurses, doctors, and even midwives. Though, there were a few teachers staying here as well. The teachers usually ended up working in the new orphanages. Previously, it was almost unheard of for there to be a place for orphaned children to stay, and they had no status whatsoever. Nowadays, Cardassia had no choice but to accept the orphaned back into their society. Most children had lost their parents. Literally for those lucky few whose parents were still alive. To be found.  
  
Julian headed to the room designated to him. It was a pretty modest room, just large enough to fit in a couple of chairs, there were also those shelves built into the wall opposite to the door. That’s where their things were placed- his and his roommate’s things.  
  
His roommate was Silena Khan, the latest host of the Khan symbiote after Lenara had died in an unfortunate accident. This host was a teacher. She was also engaged to one of Julian’s closest friends, Ezri Dax. Julian had been surprised to see Selina here. He had heard about her from Ezri in passing but had never personally talked to her. Selina was not the most talkative, though she had her moments of passion, and she had no problem rooming with a friend of her fiance’s. Unsurprisingly, they became quick friends. Selina also had to have been the most considerate roommates Julian had ever had. Which was not a shock considering the last time he had a roommate it was during his time at the academy. Heterosexual human men who had just reached drinking age did not make good roommates, to say the least.  
  
Silena was not home yet. That was a little bit of a relief. When she got home she was usually hoping for a lot of quiet so she could get whatever work she still had left done, usually grading papers or working on an assignment to present to her kids the next day.  
  
This meant that Julian had some time to talk with friends if anyone was available. Usually, with time zone differences across planets and space stations, nobody else would be available. They would either still be busy with work, or sleeping. When he powered up his padd, he was greeted with a waterfall of notifications. He sighed. _Better go through all of these first_. At the top of the list was a message from Miles O’brien, the former chief engineer on Deep Space Nine, and also his best friend.  
  
_‘Hey, Julian. I know you got my last message. It’s been a few hours since I sent it but I wanted to check in with you again and make sure you’re doing okay, you know? You said Garak had been blown to bits? I bet with you taking care of him he’ll be good as new, legs or no. You’re a fine doctor, Julian, and I’m sure he’s going to be okay because of you. I can’t understand your… friendship with him, but I know that you care a lot and no matter what you will worry because that’s who you are. Just don’t let it get to you completely. He’ll recover. Also, let us know how he's doing, Keiko and the kids are worried sick.’_  
  
Oh yeah. Before Garak had woken up, Julian had sent a message to Miles, venting a few of his frustrations and worries to his friend. He had nearly forgotten about that. He scrolled up on his padd, finding the first message Miles had referenced to.  
  
_‘Are you okay? I've never seen you make so many typos before.’_  
  
That's because Julian had almost been crying. His face went hot in embarrassment as he formulated a reply. Miles was surely asleep at this point, he almost always was, so he kept the message brief.  
  
_‘Garak is going to live. I'm okay. He will be okay.’_  
  
He got a reply almost instantly. His padd made a ping noise. Surprised, he read it.  
  
_‘Kids say thank you uncle Julian’_  
  
_‘What are they doing up? Doesn’t Molly have school?’_ Julian shot back.  
  
_‘She can take one day off.’_ __  
__  
_‘That's irresponsible, Miles.’_  
  
_‘C’moooon!!! She was worried about her uncle Garak, so Keiko and I decided to distract her and ‘Yoshi with a few movies while we waited for your verdict.’_  
  
Julian snorted in a way that was decidedly unattractive. Good thing it was just him right now.  
  
_‘Excuses.’_ __  
__  
_‘We made hot chocolate…’_  
  
Miles sent another message after that one.  
  
_‘Now ‘Yoshi feels bad that you aren't here for movies and hot chocolate. He says you should come over tonight.’_  
  
Julian half-smiled, wishing he could. On a last second notice like this, it was not likely. Right now he wanted nothing more than to sit down with the O’Brien family and a cup of hot chocolate.  
  
_‘My official time on Cardassia will be up in a year.’_ __  
__  
_‘We’d love to have you over then.’_ __  
__  
_‘And I would love to be over. Goodnight.’_ __  
__  
_‘Goodnight, Julian.’_  
  
He started going through the other notifications. A lot of it was accumulated spam mail from the past couple of days that he kept on ignoring. Some of it was from other friends and family. He got rid of the spam and cleaned up for bed. Instead of falling asleep within seconds as he may usually do, he lay there in the dark and staring a hole into the wall, thinking about Garak. Worrying about him. He rolled over onto his side, squeezing his pillow tight. He was steaming in fury about him, or more accurately, his friend’s situation.  
  
Silena came in quietly, not turning on the light. She readied for sleep and took to working on her bed. He eventually did fall asleep to the sound of a pen tapping on a padd, in his head echoed rain pattering against a window.  
  
\--  
  
The next day proved to be quite the busy one. Julian didn't get the chance to see Garak in the morning because of the rush of patients coming in, all in dire need of attention. Julian wouldn't get the chance to slip away until his impromptu lunch break that evening. He hurried for Garak’s room after practically inhaling his lunch. His coworkers talked amongst each other, Pervash smiling and not so discreetly pointing at him. Julian didn't need to hear a single word his coworkers said to know that they were talking about him.  
  
When Julian got to the room his friend was held in, he saw that Garak already had another visitor. A somewhat older Cardassian man of firm build with braided hair, long and almost graying at the roots. Garak was awake and sitting up in his bed with a modest meal, he and his visitor were talking amiably.  
  
The visitor turned, noticing Julian had entered the room. He smiled pleasantly.  
  
“You must be Julian Bashir.” He gave Julian an appraising look.  
  
Garak smiled also. It was one of those fake customer service smiles that Julian had seen him give while working with a particularly annoying or demanding customer. Seeing it made Julian's stomach turn. Just because Garak had seemed happy to see him earlier doesn't mean he would be now, but it was also possible he was just hiding the pain still present after having gone through amputation.  
  
“Good evening, doctor.” He greeted in Kardasi. “This is Doctor Parmak.”  
  
So this was that doctor friend Garak had been referring to in his writing. The one who reminded him so much of Julian. Something about Garak befriending another doctor on Cardassia and then ceasing contact with Julian didn't sit well with him, reminded him of that time a changeling had replaced him for a whole month without anyone noticing it.  
  
Parmak was not a changeling. And Julian had not been replaced.   
  
“Ah, nice to meet you, Parmak.” Julian said politely.  
  
Parmak awkwardly held out his hand for a handshake, which Julian took, feeling equally as awkward. He usually wasn't going to get a handshake from a nonhuman as they often found the human tradition vulgar, or at the very least uncomfortable. Cardassians usually thought the practice unusual. Like requesting a kiss from a stranger.   
  
It reminded Julian of that fact that he had been holding Garak’s hand not barely twenty-four hours ago, at his bedside. _That_ was rather intimate by both Cardassian and human standards. Now he could see why Pervash was so convinced there was something between him and Garak. She didn't know it, but Julian had done the same thing for Garak years ago as well. Maybe she wasn't wrong…  
  
Julian banished that line of thought.  
  
“You know, Bashir,” Parmak said. “Elim and I were just talking about you.”  
  
Garak shot Parmak an almost betrayed look, as though that was exactly what he didn't want Parmak to say. Julian raised an eyebrow.  
  
“We were only talking about the good job you did with my leg and my foot. Your supplies are limited, so Kelas was understandably impressed.” Garak explained.  
  
“I see.”  
  
Parmak piped up. “We were also talking about Elim’s living arrangements. He could live alone unable to walk until he gets prosthetics, but given the difficulty that might create, I figured that someone should be there to help him until he better adjusts. Unfortunately, I cannot do that.”  
  
He didn't elaborate.  
  
“I was hoping that seeing as you are such a good friend of Elim’s, that you might be willing to,” Parmak said this with an almost mischievous smile.  
  
“Of course,” Julian said without a moment's hesitation.  
  
Like an idiot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and they were roommates
> 
> oh my god they were roommates
> 
> Edit: I had updated this chapter with some little stuff. Now we know what Kelas looks like and what I kept from fanon Kelas.


	4. Ignorance Isn't Bliss

**Hospital room, flashback**

When Garak had woken up next, he found himself very much alone. Light from the window next to his bed was burning through his eyelids, making it impossible to try going back to sleep without moving away. That was when he noticed something was wrong.

He couldn't push himself up with his legs, they were gone. He winced in pain at the realization. No. One was cut off from the knee. The other leg was there, just missing a foot. Eventually, he gave up trying to move forward, as moving from the waist down was hurting. He turned onto his side, facing toward the door and away from the window. He shut his eyes tight and tried to go back to sleep.

It was times like these that he missed the implant that would turn pain into euphoric pleasure. He could see little dots of black dance in his vision momentarily. He blinked furiously, trying to chase the little black dots away.

Within ten minutes (by Garak’s accurate estimate), someone entered the room. They must have thought he was still asleep because they didn't say anything. They simply dragged a chair over and took a seat. Garak kept his eyes closed now, ignoring the intense feeling of being boxed in and trapped.

Then there was a soft chuckle.

“I know you're awake, Elim.”

It was Kelas.

\--

Getting Garak out of the hospital was no easy task. He could not be fit with any prosthetics, as the hospital didn't have any, and wouldn't for at least a month when help from the Federation would come through. So they sat him down in a wheelchair. His limbs still twinged in pain though he tried not to express it.

The chairs were originally designed for temporary use- and weren't designed with someone's day to day actions outside of the hospital setting in mind. They were also a _bitch_ to push through the cracked gravel roads outside, Bashir complained.

“My, what colorful language, doctor.” Garak had commented.

Bashir scoffed and rolled his eyes, continuing to push Garak down the damaged road towards where Bashir lived. He had to grab some of his things, seeing as he would now be living with him. Garak was both excited and dismayed at that.

“You know, I could pick you up and carry you easily.”

Bashir rarely talked about his augmentations, nor did he usually flaunt them unless asked. Garak always felt a little bit flattered when Bashir didn't censor himself around him. Bashir always exercised more trust with him than he should.

“But what would you do about the chair then, my dear doctor?”

The doctor made a show of groaning.

When they got there, Bashir was unsure how to proceed. The building he lived in had no turbolifts; having people who couldn't walk was hardly common when the building was made, so they lacked that particular help for the disabled. A huge disadvantage given current circumstances on Cardassia and a disadvantage that Garak now bemoaned.

“I don't suppose you would actually let me carry you?” Bashir asked. “I don't want to leave you outside.”

“I don't see why you can't just come back in and come back out. I would only be alone for a minute.” Garak argued. He knew he shouldn't indulge in this, but it was as though there was a greater force goading him into this.

Bashir shuffled embarrassedly. “This was all last minute. It's not like I've already packed, Garak!”

“Surely with your enhancements, you should able to manage some quick packing up. You said you didn't have much.”

Bashir mumbles something incoherent under his breath.

“What was that? I'm afraid my hearing doesn't compare to yours, doctor.”

“I said that I'm worried about you!” He snapped at Garak. “I'm worried that you might get hurt if I leave you alone too long, something might happen!”

“I'm sure I'll be fine here for a few minutes. There isn't much opportunity to hurt me here, not at the last second.” Garak reasoned. Doctors always had to worry. Especially the kind-hearted human ones. He wished they wouldn't.

Bashir frowned deeply but headed into the building without another word. He came back a few minutes later with two decently sized bags slung over his shoulder casually, behind him was a young woman. Judging by the spots, she was a trill. Maybe not so young after all. She was of average height and build, had a lighter complexion, and her blonde hair poked out from under a hat. Ah, this must be the roommate Bashir had mentioned in letters. Silena Kahn. A friend of Bashir's,  and Ezri's fiancé.

She grinned up at Garak, squinting in the bright sunlight. Her impossibly clear blue eyes were not that of a young woman's.

“Hello!” She greeted excitedly. “You must be Garak. I've heard about you.”

“I hope you don't believe everything you hear, Kahn.” Garak smiled. He did have a reputation as a spy back when he was on DS9. A reputation that still followed him to this day. There were all kinds of stories about him. Of a skilled operative, an assassin waiting in the dark- a trained deceiver and killer. Rarely were they ever really true, of course. A reputation was only that, a reputation. And what was known of a man was not always the truth.

Kahn laughed.

“Say, we were wondering- Ezri and I that is. We were wondering if you could make it to our wedding.”

That was unexpected.  

“We'll see,” he nodded politely to her, still smiling.

She beamed.

“Oh, Ezri will be so happy to hear this. We're doing this traditional Terran wedding, nice and big! There will be a humongous- oh I can tell you all of this later. You should be heading home!”

“Yes, we really should be.” Bashir's smile was an oddly strained one.

They said their goodbyes and were on their way.

\--

It was silently agreed that they would stay in the shack and that the house would still remain untouched. It seemed that by instinct nobody would touch the home plotted on the patch of ground the house of Enabran Tain was once plotted. Garak was glad he didn't need to say a word to the doctor for him to understand that.

Still without exchanging words, Bashir had started a meal for the both of them in the makeshift kitchen. They ate, sharing a few words here and there. Mostly about literature, music, and wherever else their past pursuits of cultural exchange had taken them last they were speaking. They chatted, and laughed, and bickered. A familiar dance.

It seemed almost natural for the two of them. This quiet, relaxing conversation in close quarters. Whatever tenseness there had been between them only hours earlier had drifted away and left only with what Garak could describe as horribly domestic. Garak was sentimental and couldn't deny himself the company of a loved one now that he was here to help him.

_Damn it Kelas._

This was all he could think of as Bashir cleaned up after dinner, tidied up Garak's sleeping space, and lay Garak down to sleep. He checked Garak's wounds, apparently still susceptible to infection at this point, and then changed the bandaging. He did so careful, and near lovingly. It had to be in Garak's head. It had to be.

When Bashir settled onto the floor with his thin blanket, teddy bear kukalaka as a pillow, it took everything in him to keep from inviting Bashir into bed with him. The human was a warm-blooded mammal, and the floor was likely cold and hard- Garak was a cold-blooded reptile, it was only natural to want a little bit of that mammalian warmth.

_Damn it Kelas._

This beautiful man couldn't love him. Even if he did, he would be in danger here. Even now, he was in danger. Sentiment is a weakness he could not afford. The words of Enabran Tain played in his head like a Terran cassette tape on loop.

Damn it _Kelas_.

\--

“I'm sorry. There was only so much we could do and we couldn't keep his vitals steady, so we lost him. He died, Garak.”

The two of them were sitting down with a somewhat small lunch between them. They were talking as they usually would, though Bashir didn't seem too eager to hastily devour his food this time around. He ate slower, as though he were trying to savour it. It reminded Garak of the fact that as a warm-blooded augmented Terran, Bashir probably required a higher caloric intake than himself. Especially in this weather. Garak felt comfortable, but he knew that this would put a strain on Terran physiology.

So when Bashir leaned his face into a cool glass of tea, sighing blissfully, Garak didn't say anything about it. Instead, he decided to ask the question that had been in the back of his mind since he woke up: what had happened to his informant, his colleague?

He nodded in contemplation at the answer he got.

Garak didn't personally know the man well, never knew his real name. It wasn't out of grief that his heart sunk. Just what had the man been trying to share with him before he died? What was it that Garak needed to know?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for delay in update. 
> 
> Be sure to comment with any concerns and or criticisms.
> 
> January 24, 2019: I'm making a slight change to the beginning of every few chapters where Garak and Kelas are interacting in flashback.


	5. Scars of all kinds

It had been a week or so of living with Garak. He was here doing his job as a part-time caretaker of sorts. Just the basic help, like making sure Garak was on his chair in the morning instead of face down on the ground, too disheartened to get up. Julian told Garak it was only natural to feel this way after losing limbs, that plenty of people forgot. It was a traumatizing experience after all and phantom limbs weren't uncommon.

After Julian was sure that Garak could handle the day on his own- that everything he might need was within reach for him- he would leave for a day of work at the hospital. Parmak would sometimes be at the shack with Garak when he got home. Garak was determined to still get as much work done as usual and still went to all of the events and meetings. Parmak, being quite the political advocate as Julian had heard, wanted to be sure that Garak made it home safely. Garak was surprisingly fine with it, a model patient for his other doctor friend.

Julian was not jealous.

This morning, Julian woke up to a thud on the floor. Then there was shuffling and a grunt of pain. He shot up, fully alert.

Garak had fallen again, and he was trying to pull himself back into bed. Julian went to help him, grabbing underneath his arms to pull him up. Garak hissed and struggled like an irritated snake.

Julian let him back down on the ground, crouching down to his level.

“Garak, are you alright?”

“Alright, doctor?” He glowered. “I'm doing just fine. Having the time of my life, in fact!”  
Julian flinched at the biting sarcasm. He knew this was far from the time of Garak's life and Garak could lash out when he was upset or felt cornered.

Well, I just couldn't help but notice that you needed help up from the floor, Garak.” Garak looked about ready to argue that point before he sighed. “Yes, if you would be a dear and help me up?”

What a human turn of phrase, Julian thought, helping his friend up. He settled Garak back into bed, and pulled a thin blanket over him. Garak leaned back and shut his eyes, murmuring thanks quietly enough that were Julian a Cardassian, he wouldn't have picked it up.

He had called Julian _dear._

“Garak-” Julian was ready to say something.   
Garak had already fallen asleep. He breathed softly now, looking visibly relaxed. It was a sharp   
contrast from his earlier anger. For such a paranoid man, he did fall asleep quickly. Poor man must be exhausted. The bleeding had completely stopped, and the stitches were removed. Garak's recovery was now going at a steady if slow pace. It didn't help that Garak insisted on leaving and working every day.  Thankfully, his work involved little physical labor aside from paperwork and pushing himself forward.

Looks like Julian wasn't going to get the opportunity to ask about it now. Garak was sleeping too peacefully to wake up now, and he looked so unburdened. His eyes shifted minimally, and his breathing was steady. It would be cruel to wake him up. Julian got up from his seat on Garak's bed. Maybe he would appreciate waking up again to a warm breakfast.

Julian was far from a professional cook, but given ten to fifteen minutes with the rations and a padd, surely he could figure out a decent meal for himself and his friend. He set off to the makeshift kitchen area- the shack was renovated and expanded somewhat after Garak had first settled in here. It now had a propane stove dug from the nearby wreckage of what was once a home, and a sometimes functioning replicator as well.

The last time Julian asked for it to replicate something for him, the room had ended up covered in chicken broth, Julian himself had been sopping wet. Garak had been so amused, smiling with endearing little age lines that Julian couldn't believe he hadn't noticed before. The two of them exchanged banter as Julian cleaned the floor. It was like nothing about their relationship had changed.

Julian couldn't muster up the courage to confront Garak about the missed letters, or the fact that his life was threatened twice. And by the time he and Garak were sitting together and enjoying the mediocre meal he had made, the questions had died in his throat, like they did every day since he moved in here.

He still couldn't get over the fact that they were now living together. It was quite a difference from infrequent pen pals who used to take lunch together.

Right now, Julian was not so bold as to bring it up and possibly shatter whatever it is they had going on now. Julian felt as though it was something precious- and also fragile.

\--

“So, Bashir. Tell us. How is it, living with Aussac Garak?” Pervash was sitting across from him, grinning to Chiyal conspiratorially. He didn't return the grin.

To Pervash's credit, she did wait all week before bringing Garak up again. She had given Julian space. It wasn't a surprise that she would want to know everything now after the shock of what happened to Garak had wore off. That didn't mean that Julian wanted to talk his gossiping coworker about his time spent with Garak.

He took a bite of his lunch, just a simple protein bar and some blueberries that got sent to him by his mother. The gesture was rather nice, but he still wasn't ready to talk to her or his father, not so soon after their last argument. This time it was about him reconnecting with the rest of their family, and him going to Cardassia. It was something they viewed as a childish attempt to flee from his problems. As though him going to Cardassia had anything to so with the two of them and what _they_ did.

They didn't know him at all.

“Have you talked to him about your feelings?” Pervash asked when he didn't answer her initial question.

“Quite frankly, I think that's none of your business.”

“You admit you have feelings?” She smiled like she were a predator who had cornered her prey.

Everyone else seemed to stare, not understand the English they were speaking. Or, in Selda's case, only understanding half of it. The young Cardassian/Bajoran nurse tried to listen closely.

“I never said that.” Julian scowled.

With that, he got up and left the break room. He could spare a few moments to check on a patient he had been working with for the past week. Lars Ghemor, or just Lars, as the man had insisted he call him. He was the politician from a week back- with the missing arm. 

He was allowed to stay here after staff had realized there was nobody to take him in. Nobody with enough room to spare, anyways. Not wanting him to have to adjust to the loss of an arm all alone, it was decided that he could stay here for the week. Julian often met up with him outside of work time to talk, and to help Ghemor out in developing his writing skills with his non-dominant hand.

So far, he was doing very well. The ability of Cardassians to seemingly bounce back so easily from traumatic events would always be a shock to Julian, no matter how many times he personally observed it.

Ghemor greeted Julian with a lopsided grin.

Julian smiled back hesitantly. Ghemor was more than a little friendly towards him, despite only knowing him for a week. While that didn't bother Julian exactly, it did unsettle him just a little bit. Julian just wasn't used to such openness and trust coming from a Cardassian he just met. Usually, he was initially met with distrust and scorn. Sometimes rage. Other times fear.

Once an older woman had refused to let Julian treat her, yelling obscenities at him. She found a Human doctor distasteful, and it didn't help that he was a male doctor on top of that. Pervash had taken care of her, admonishing the woman for her blatant xenophobia. _What if he were the only doctor available?_ There were some sectors where this was a definite possibility.

“Salmakt, Ghemor” Julian said, taking a seat. “How is my patient doing?”

“I am doing very well. I've been told that I could go home today if I wanted. Has anybody told you that your accent is getting much better, Julian?”

He couldn't manage many of the hissings found in Kardasi and was pleasantly surprised to hear this, as he was trying to get better. He was flattered that Ghemor had been paying attention. Though Ghemor knew better than to call him Julian.

“That's S’h’iosr’ha Bashir, Ghemor.”

“S'h'iosr'ha Julian.”

Julian sighed. He had asked Ghemor to cut it out several times. Clearly a lost cause...“I have something for you today, Ghemor.”

“Ah?”

Julian reached into his bag for the little baggy of blueberries. He hadn't eaten them all yet. Julian presented a few of them to him. Ghemor's clammy hand lingered when he went to grab them from Julian's own outstretched hand.

Ghemor hummed appreciatively as he popped one in his mouth.

“Blueberries. My mother sent me so many, I worry that they will go bad before they're eaten.”

“That would be a pity.”

\--

“Hey, Jules!” Lily smiled.

Today it appeared she was taking the video call in the kitchen. It was an old-fashioned kitchen, with a small refrigerator and everything. Lily seemed to be very into retro aesthetic, and on top of that, she enjoyed cooking for her little family. She had once promised to have the whole family over for dinner sometime. Julian was very much looking forward to it, he wanted to meet his family in person for the first time in thirty years.

“Hey.” He said. “How are you?”

She took a sip of her coffee. Black coffee, Julian noted. “Ohh, I'm doing just peachy.”

“What's the matter?”

Lily set her coffee down on the counter behind her, she groaned when the coffee sloshed onto the counter and wet her shirt. “Ugh! I'll be right back, Jules.”

She went out of view and came back a few seconds later wearing a new shirt, a washcloth in hand. “Seems like I'm having all kind of accidents lately…”

“I have a feeling that you are accident prone.” Julian chuckled...

“Ha, ha. Real funny.” She rolled her eyes. “You know, I think I've permanently ruined entire sections of the house since I've got here.”

“What were you about to tell me before your latest incident?” Julian asked amusedly.

“Stressed out about the baby.” She answered a little bit muffled because the wet cloth was now over her padd for some wild reason that Julian could not discern. “I want this baby out of me already. I feel so uncomfortable- oh.”

“Lils?”

“Well, I'm about to have this baby out of me.” She sputtered, and while Julian could not see her now, he imagined she was waving her arms rather frantically.

“Oh.”

“Yes, oh!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I hadn't updated in a while, I had been in a bit of a haitus. Also I'm posting this on my phone so apologies for any formatting issues.


	6. Names

**Hospital room, flashback**

Garak opened his eyes again, finding the curtains blissfully closed now. The room now wasn't so unbearably bright that he couldn't see. Garak wondered when someone had come in to do that.

He should have stayed awake He was horribly out of practice and that was distressing to say the least.

“Kelas...” Garak started. “How are you so sure that you didn't wake me up just now?”

His friend adjusted his glasses, smiling.

“Because you relax when you sleep. You’re stiffer than a board right now, I'm afraid.”

\--

Garak sighed, finding himself nearly bored to tears, as Bashir might say. He was supposed to be taking notes on today's topic. It was his turn this week, after all. Kelas and Alon had yet to get to the topic at hand. They were busy with their flirtatious banter. He was what his dear Terran friend might call ‘the third wheel'. Garak supposed he could finally get his next speech transcript done. He tries to refrain from rolling his eyes when Kelas got in Alon’s face to state his _honest_ opinion on past Cardassian governmental policies on civilian political activism.

As Garak started writing, he got a notification flashing on his screen in a rather obnoxious manner. A message. There were few people who would send Garak a message at this time of day. And two of them were sitting across from him, too focused on one another to have sent him anything. When meetings were larger, Garak would sometimes get a message from a frustrated Kelas, going off about whatever was missing from the discussion this time.

With all of the rebuilding going on, many understandably did not have the time to show up. Today's topic of discussion was actually supposed to be about how they could help other citizens participate without their presence needed at all of the meetings. Perhaps a forum. Where meeting notes could be published and then discussed.

_‘Hey. I'm going to be staying a little bit later tonight. I'll be home asap._

_-J.B’_

Garak quickly typed up a response, but received a second message before he could send it. Unlabeled this time, but clearly from Bashir.

_‘I didn't really explain that. I'm sorry. Lily called. She's in labour and she wanted for me to keep an eye on her kids for a bit.’_

The name seemed very familiar to Garak, but he couldn't place from exactly where. She had to have been someone Bashir had only written to him about. A colleague or friend maybe. Or, he thought, perhaps a romantic partner.

_‘Take as long as you need.’_

A moment later.

_‘The kids will be sleeping soon enough anyways. See you tonight. :)_

_-J.B’_

“Did you catch all of that?”

Garak looked up from his padd. The look that was no doubt on his face must have answered Alon's question.

\--

Kelas did not escort Garak home today, having made a prior arrangement with Alon. He apologized, not holding back an elated smile.

Kelas was far from subtle when it came to emotions, Garak found. The man had been educated at home, and never got the same socialization and mental training that other children got. Seeing such easy and open expression on a fellow Cardassian's face was refreshing and unnerving all at once. He wouldn't be Kelas without it.

In any case, he was happy for his dear friend. 

The walk home was a short one. Garak stuck to the less debris littered path, minding the wheelchairs limited mobility. Bashir had said that Garak could be fitted with biosynthetic limbs within the month, if the Federation support came through.

Bashir was not yet there when he got home. Garak decided to get to work on dinner. He replicated something simple. That was the trick with this replicator, only ordering whole ingredients, one at a time, that one could then work with in the kitchen.

Watching Bashir make a mess with this second hand replicator had been the most amusing thing. He smiled fondly thinking about it. He was in love with this ridiculous man. In some ways, he could never regret it.

But, that didn't change that Garak wanted Bashir gone as soon as conveniently possible. He never planned on letting him any closer to him, even if his feelings were reciprocated. Garak could not put Bashir in any kind of dangerous position. The idea of pushing him away any further than he already had hurt, especially when Bashir acted as though that rift never happened, but it was something necessary.

Dinner was done by the time Bashir came in. He came in without acknowledging Garak at first, slumping down onto the floor where he ordinarily slept at night. It instantly set alarms off in Garak's head.

“My dear doctor,” Garak greeted. “I made dinner.”

Bashir smiled half-heartedly, getting up to take the seat across from him on their makeshift table. It was actually the only chair in the shack. Aside from his own chair, obviously.

“How was your day?” Bashir asked, already digging into his food rather hastily, looking like the last place he wanted to be was seated across from Garak.

“It was… Uneventful to say the least.” Garak answered, eyeing Bashir with some concern. “Are you okay?”

Bashir sighed. “Yes, I'm okay. Lily's wife just told me there were some complications.”

“Ah, is she going to be alright?”

“Yes, but there may be some problems with the baby and… she will have to stay with the baby for the next couple of weeks.”

“Someone will be with her children, I trust?”

Julian shook his head. “No. Her wife is on the opposite side of the quadrant, and I'm here, far away from Earth and there's not enough space in this shack, anyways.”

“There is the house…” Garak offered against his better judgement. And there was the house, he never set foot in there since it was finished, and there had yet to be anyone who wanted to live there.

“Really?”

Garak nodded. “There are plenty of rooms and space for them.”

“Garak.” His smile nearly blinding.. “I could kiss you.”

Garak's heart went cold, and his blood flow stilled. That was just a Terran expression. A silly Terran expression.

“You have done so much for me. It's the least I could do for you, my dear.” And it really was. 

Bashir practically beamed, happily digging into his meal again. “Thank you so much.” He said in between bites of salad. “I may have to be gone for the day to get them, will you be okay?”

“I should be fine.”

“Want to see a picture of the kids?” Bashir asked.

“Yes, my dear.”

Bashir pulled out a padd, setting it on the table facing Garak. There were two adolescent human children in the picture. They looked to be the same age, and were perhaps twins. That was something that happened more commonly in human births than Cardassian. They were both darker skinned, having tones a shade or so darker than Bashir's own, but not quite as dark as humans like Captain Sisko or his son. The girl's grin looked familiar, as did the boy's eyes.

“Doctor, they look like…”

“Like their uncle Julian?” He laughed. “Lilla jokes about it, how her kids look more like their distant relatives than her.”

Things then fell into place. Lilla wasn't a partner of Bashir's, but family. This thought lifted a weight that was on his chest that Garak hadn't even noticed was there. Like relief.

\--

Garak was lying in bed, just almost asleep when Bashir says something. Garak opened his eyes and blinked out the blurriness, trying not to groan out loud.

“Garak? Are you still awake?” He whispered.

“Yes…” He hissed, not at all happy with being woken up. Even if it was by this charming human who was beginning to look less charming by the second.

Garak heard some shuffling. And looked down to see that Bashir was now facing him, squinting. He was reminded that Terrans had notoriously bad sight in the dark. Bashir was leaning on one arm, _Teddy bear_ Kukalaka in the crook of it.

“I have a question.” He stated.

“Right now?”

“No time like the present.” Bashir smiled sheepishly. “And I have been holding off on asking for long enough.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes.”

“What is it?”

“Well,” Bashir started. “I noticed that first names can be very personal for Cardassians. Only family, close friends, or uh lovers seem to use them. I was wondering…” He trailed off.

“Yes?”

“I know you're secretive, so I never used your name, but I _was_ wondering…” He said again. “Why do you never seem to use mine?”

“I don't know.” Garak lied. “I suppose it never occurred to me, doctor.”

Bashir feel silent for a moment.

“Julian.” He finally said.

“What?”

“...You can call me Julian. We're close enough by Cardassian standards, right?”

“Yes, we are.” Garak relented.

“So call me Julian.”

“Alright, Julian.” Garak sighed. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight….”

“Elim.”

“Pardon?”

“You can call me Elim. It's only fair.”

Bashir grinned, rapping his fingers on his bear. Garak could swear he'd seen him do something like this before when he was happy, when they were sitting in the replimat Garak would occasionally hear the tapping. Though he never met another human who expressed happiness in this way, not that Garak knew many humans so personally.

“Goodnight, then, Elim. Sweet dreams.”

And sweet they were.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No haitus, we stubbornly continue to write shitty fics like men.
> 
> Also I'm trying to get back on a weekly posting schedule because may as well, right?


	7. Reflections of light on mirrors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! 
> 
> Apologies for the delay in posting despite my saying that wouldn't happen! Long story short, depression. I split this long ass chapter into two so I could post earlier. 
> 
> You might be able to tell that I'm changing the plot a bit. (A lot). 
> 
> Anyways, happy 2019 🖖

The sounds of footsteps was what woke him- what with his genetic enhancements in all, he was a light sleeper. He could hear better than your average human. Blearily opening his eyes, he felt something. The tilt of the bed as someone settled their weight on it. Instantly, he knew it wasn’t Garak. And he was certain he didn’t have a bed mate last night, so who was this…? Slowly, he got up, trying to fight the tired away.

“Good morning, Doctor.”

The air left his lungs, and for a moment, Julian couldn’t breath. His throat was filled with this static sensation, and his face was numb. That was a voice he would recognize anywhere, but that was impossible.

“You’re dead…”

Julian then saw him. Luther Sloan. Exactly as he saw him the last time, his straw blond hair in the same cut, parted to the side just so. Meticulous. Perfect. It was like time hadn’t passed since the last time he had seen him. 

Sloan smiled pleasantly. “That was what we wanted you to think.”

Section 31. That shadow organization. But Julian thought he was done with them, that they were done with him.

“I saw you die, Sloan.” Julian reached for his combage, ready to call for security.

“Don’t bother, none of this is real.”

“...another simulation?” But that made no sense- none of this made any sense. Julian had a feeling he was forgetting something.

Sloan nodded. “You could say that.” Then there was a phaser. Julian hadn’t noticed it before hand, and it caught him off guard. “Tell me something, doctor. Why did you kill me?”

“I… You were going to commit genocide!”

Sloan pointed the phaser at him.

“It was for the protection of the Federation- of the entire Alpha Quadrant, how could you find any fault in that?”

“No one simply gets to decide who lives and who dies.”

“Ironic that you should think so, considering your profession.”

“My profession is to ensure as many people as possible get the chance to live- not to play some sick game of god.”

Sloan leaned closer, poking Julian in the side with the phaser. “Is that how you felt about it?”

“I- why are you in my face?” This threw Sloan off his game.

“Pardon?”

“You’re not Sloan at all, are you?” Julian accused. And it was true.“Your acting is awful. I can’t believe it took me as long as it did to notice.”

“I’ll remember that.” He sneered. Then he pulled the trigger on the phaser. There was a brief shock of heat, light, and then what Julian might only describe as nothing. A painless death as Julian was torn apart at a molecular level.

Julian woke up with a jolt. His heart was pounding. At first, he couldn’t recall what he dreamt about, but the details quickly came flooding back to him. Sloan showing up in his quarters on DS9, telling him that he was in another simulation, and then turning out to not be Sloan at all. And then killing him. A nightmare.  No, Julian was not back in his bed on DS9. He was clearly home with Garak- Elim, who was peacefully slumbering in his bed.  _ Elim’s home _ . Julian was lying next to him on a sleeping bag set down on the warm ground of the shack.

From here, Julian could see that the three moons were still up, illuminating the night sky. They bathed Elim in their light in a way that looked absolutely stunning. Elim was handsome, but he was easily beautiful as well.

He sighed. There was no way he was going back to sleep after the nightmare he just had. Maybe he should contact Lily, see if she had found some kind of babysitter. Julian's heart still swelled at thinking about Elim’s offer. By no means was Elim fond of kids, at least, as far as he was aware. That he would offer to host them meant a lot to Julian, even if it was only to ease his anxiety that his niblings would have to be alone. A highly unfounded fear, honestly. It was embarrassing that he ever brought it up. It was just that Julian could remember being left alone many times in his childhood. A vague remembrance of having been dropped off on a foreign planet for months to be operated on being the first of a never ending list of those memories.

His niblings had good parents. There was nothing to worry about.

He got up from the floor, trying to be as quiet as possible, he grabbed his bag. It was something Elim had made for him years ago, a medical blue messenger bag with a few hidden pockets. He had slipped a holonovel in there for Julian to discover. Which he had while on a seemingly hopeless away mission. It had helped him stay sane. Elim was beyond thoughtful. Pulling his padd from the bag, he shot his cousin a quick message. 

_ Hey, how are you? _

The response was quick.

_ I’m exhausted. _

_ You did just have a baby.  _ Julian texted back.

_...Want to know their name? _

_ It’s Julian Bashir. _

He couldn’t help but grin.

_ You’re kidding….  _ He said.

_ I’m afraid not. _

Oh… Never in Julian’s life did he think that a child would ever be named after him. Never in his life did he even think he would ever see or hear from his extended family ever again. He felt himself tear up before he could stop himself. He wiped those tears away and sent another message.

_ That’s an awful name to give a child. _

_ Because they’re named after an augment? You know how kids are, they’ll think it’s the coolest thing. _

_ If their parents don’t get to them first. _

_ You have a point there… it’s not like everyone would just know their middle name though. _

_ Why my name? _

There were a few minutes of pause.

_ I could tell you that it’s for some special reason, but really it’s because we forgot to think about names this time. I thought that namesakes were a little bit cheesy, but Bashir isn’t the worst name a child could have.   _

_ What about Julian? _

_ Let’s just say I have a feeling my child isn’t going to go by that. _

Fair enough, Julian thought to himself. He had gotten many comments back at the academy about how awful his name was. Thanks, I chose it myself, he'd reply.

_ So did you find someone to watch the kids yet? _

_ Judy found a sitter, apparently someone who used to watch her and her siblings as a kid, isn’t that neat? _

Julian stifled the shred of disappointment he felt. Really this was not the most child safe place in the quadrant. Far from it.

_ I'm glad. _


End file.
